


at two a.m. (you were dancing next to me)

by misscuriouscat



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (...or is it?), (...or slow burn-ish?), (IDK TBH), (IDK how to tag), (again i am so sorry), (how do you write angst), (i don't know but i think they're kind of OOC here? especially jisung maybe), (i'll create a playlist later), (i'm sorry), (if i can call it pining lol), (just for conversation), (like seriously about 20 songs lol), Accident, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Crying, I'll add more tags later, Inspired by Too Many Songs, Kink Joke, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sad Han Jisung | Han, Slow Burn, Temporary Amnesia, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25523821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscuriouscat/pseuds/misscuriouscat
Summary: "What's wrong?" Jisung asks because he feels something is wrong.Changbin whispers something. A word? A name? Jisung didn't catch it because suddenly, Chan's frantically running out of somewhere from their dorm, pulling both with him, and looking at them as if this is no time to be standing at doorsteps and staring at each other. "Come on! I've been told where he is right now!" he abruptly says to the two. Then Jisung sees Felix next, who obviously just woke up but equally rattled.And Jisung…Jisung didn't connect the dots at all.But he should have known from the start  (or maybe he does) that when there would come a time that two or three members of Stray Kids are panicking in this way after their manager calls them in the almost dead of night, he would immediately think of and hurt for only one:Minho.--It scares Jisung sometimes how strong his feelings are. And he would've lived with it, forever terrified of how much he could love this one person.Until something else frightens him more.(basically, this is a minsung amnesia au that no one asked for)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	1. (1) forget what i said, it’s not what i meant. and i can’t take it back, i can’t unpack the baggage you left

**Author's Note:**

>   
> \+ hello! this is my first skz fanfic. this would also be the first angst fic i've written and uploaded here (if i ever get to finish it and if i ever succeed in writing it as angst because i think i'm not that good in portraying heavy emotions)  
> \+ i am a new stay. my bias is minho and i accidentally (which i am glad!) fell into minsung when i was watching minho vids in youtube  
> \+ also, english is not my first language. please be nice to me *cries*  
> 
> 
>   
> **yt playlists:** main, [one&two](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLut_IBlhxEPUasA1R1-kp1qUH7iX--oq6)  
>  **signs in this story to keep in mind:**
>
>> -J- jisung's pov  
> -M- minho's pov  
> \--- continue...  
> ->\- fast forward a bit  
> ->> fast forward to the future  
> <\-- from the future, to the present  
> -<\- go back a bit  
> <<\- go back to the past  
> \--> from the past, to the present  
> -x- pause...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> \+ i tried to write that their manager is only one person and that he is called manager park. i initially wanted it to be two people like i know it is in real life. but I decided against it for simple reasons  
> \+ **trigger warning:** there are mentions of blood in this chapter. i'll underline the first and last words of the paragraph where it will appear so please keep that in mind. thank you  
> \+ p.s. i really hope you enjoy this. _waahhh_... okay, let's start!  
> 

_I’m in my bed / And you’re not here / And there’s no one to blame […]_

_Forget what I said / It’s not what I meant / And I can’t take it back, I can’t unpack the baggage you left_

_[…] What if I’m down? What if I’m out? / What if I’m someone you won’t talk about?_

_I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m fallin’_

_And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again_

~ Harry Styles, “Falling”

-J-

It’s two a.m. when Jisung’s phone vibrates through the dark while he’s lying on his bed.

Against one wall, fluttering lights come from a lamp on his desk that’s barely even working anymore. He’s staring at the ceiling of his room (well, it’s also Jeongin’s, but he’s not here right now). He’s wearing a beanie, primarily covering his ears, just to make up for the mild cold. He even has two shirts on.

Most nights, he would find himself stumbling into their dorm’s living room where he can bear his heart to _someone_. But he’s ruined that (it’s a comfort he had to let go, and right now, he’s regretting it).

It’s not the first time that he feels like he’s being punished. And it’s not the first time he feels vulnerable.

Because this is one of those times when Jisung almost feels the world. It’s as if his shoulders are too exhausted from carrying an unknown force pressuring on him. And his throat is itching now and then. And every time he tries to swallow, it almost hurts him.

And it would have been nice to have _someone_ to distract him somehow into feeling this way. But again, he’s ruined that.

He has tried to close his eyes several times for the past few minutes. But he can’t stand the way it seems so dark when he does, even if the rapper should have been used to it by now because he’s already close to being 20.

But he just can’t. He just can’t.

And the world feels _so_ large, and he feels _so_ small. And he thinks he can almost smell the cold wind outside. He can practically taste it. But he’s getting dizzy. And— and—

And his phone just keeps on vibrating. Jisung almost didn’t notice how it quivers on his bedside table until it becomes louder, and suddenly, someone is knocking on his bedroom door. The combination of disruptive noise is enough to pull him away from him _not_ -thinking anything at all.

He stands up and gets his phone. The call was now missed; it was from their manager.

Jisung thinks about the times that their manager would call one of the members and remember why. One time, Manager Park called Jeongin because he didn’t come back from school to their dorm right away. Another was when Felix forgot about their schedule as he was busy playing games on his computer. Other times… well, Manager Park seemed to only call them during the day. So Jisung can honestly say that this is undoubtedly the first time their manager called them (or him, maybe) at near dawn.

 _Hmm_ …

Part of the rapper’s face tics as the continuous knocking sound once again breaks through his thoughts. His eyebrows meet in confusion, lips pouting for a millisecond. He treads in the direction of whoever is disrupting the deep silent night, the floor creaking with every step he makes.

When he finally opens the door, Jisung looks up, and he is met with Changbin’s nearly similar state with his — evidently wide awake in this hour (for reasons Jisung doesn’t know) and the same colliding eyebrows. His eyes seem to have a mixture of shock, wounded, and pity (but Jisung isn’t sure; he just likes to think he can read emotions sprayed on someone’s eyes).

 **“What’s wrong?”** Jisung asks because even if he’s not an expert with eyes, he _feels_ something is wrong.

Behind his older friend, Jisung can see a flicker of light fighting through the darkness of their living room. He can even hear some rustling as if someone is awake other than the two.

Changbin whispers something. A word? A name? Jisung didn’t catch it because suddenly, Chan’s frantically running out of somewhere from their dorm, pulling both with him, and looking at them as if this is no time to be standing at doorsteps and staring at each other. **“Come on! I’ve been told where he is right now!”** he abruptly says to the two. Then Jisung sees Felix next, who obviously just woke up but equally rattled.

And Jisung…

Jisung didn’t connect the dots at all.

But he should have known from the start (or maybe he does) that when there would come a time that two or three members of Stray Kids are panicking in this way after their manager calls them in the almost dead of night, he would immediately think of and hurt for only one:

 _Minho_.

\---

He just let the three drag him out of their dorm and out of the building. Jisung’s mind is so out of focus that he almost came out barefooted. It’s all thanks to Chan, who calmly said to the overwhelmed boy to put some shoes on. Otherwise, Jisung’s feet would be wobbling from the cold pavement of the sidewalk as they wait for their car.

Jisung’s finger keeps twitching, and it’s in rhythm with every second that passes by. Changbin is biting his lower lip, looking everywhere at once. He’s in a panic. Even Chan is in a panic, with how fast he keeps tapping both of his hands on his thighs. Meanwhile, Felix is pinching his upper lip with his fingers.

His three friends are in a panic. Jisung knows this because he is too; he’s in a panic. He’s worried, and he’s anxious. He feels like his heart would combust any moment now. But he knows he should try to calm down or else he wouldn’t get to know what happened. Or what’s happening, to be exact.

Jisung takes a few breaths. He notices the others join him in doing so.

 **“I— Hyung,”** he starts, not knowing exactly who he’s addressing between Chan and Changbin. **“Hyung, what happened? Where are we going?”** He pauses; he _really_ needs to calm down. But his lips are quivering. **“Who’s _he_? Is it—?”** He doesn’t want to say the words. He desperately wants to swat everything negative that’s roaming in his brain right now. **“Please tell me it’s not any one of us. P-please, tell me it’s not him.”**

Chan only looks at him; his eyes are shiny as if he’s trying so hard not to tear up. While Changbin only grips onto Jisung’s hand, squeezing it twice. Felix does the same. And that’s all he needs (and doesn’t want) to start malfunctioning even further.

Suddenly, everything is blurry than usual. And the next few minutes also come by in a blur.

He remembers them getting inside the vehicle when it finally arrives, but he doesn’t recall their sitting positions inside or the music being played while they travel or the speed of how fast he breathes.

He remembers almost falling on his knees on the concrete once they get out, and he sees the place: a hospital, but he doesn’t recall if it’s Chan or Changbin who whisper-cries to him to stay calm.

He remembers them walking inside in haste and finding their manager already waiting by the entrance, but he doesn’t recall the look on everyone’s faces when he sob-asks them again why they’re there.

He remembers stopping on the doorway of the room they enter once he sees and confirms who’s on the hospital bed: _Minho_ , but he doesn’t recall collapsing unconsciously on the floor afterward.

\---

Felix hands him a paper cup with water in it. Jisung shakingly accepts and slowly drinks it, still sweating after waking up. He’s sitting on the couch inside the hospital room — Minho’s hospital room.

Jisung’s heart pinches again, causing him to swallow hard. His chest is still heavy, and he still can’t take a glance at his left to where _he’s_ lying with a bandage on his head.

Jisung closes his eyes and exhales, silently convincing himself that maybe this is really just a dream. That maybe he’s actually on his bed in the dorm, sleeping. That maybe he’s been truly asleep since before two a.m., and he’s dreaming. _This is just a dream._

 **“I’m dreaming,”** he repeats his thought out loud, but only to himself.

He’s startled by the feeling of someone kneeling down in front of him; he snaps his eyes open.

It’s Changbin with a solemn look, eyes a tiny bit shaking, lips red from continuous biting, and forehead slightly creasing. He takes the paper cup out of Jisung’s hands and places it on the floor. Then he takes both of Jisung’s hands. **“Jisung,”** he begins. **“Do you want to listen to what happened?”** he questions, each word getting heavier to Jisung’s ears as they leave Changbin’s tongue.

Jisung closes his eyes again briefly; he doesn’t answer with words, but he nods his head.

With this, Changbin lets go of his hands and holds him up on his shoulder and waist. Jisung feels his friend drape his arm around him as they wait for their manager.

They’re a distance away from Minho, who is still unconscious, and his parents, who are sitting beside his form. The room is too bright for Jisung because he feels dim inside. There’s the sound coming from Minho’s heart monitor that fills the room before Manager Park starts to talk.

And if earlier, everything became a blur, this time, everything in that moment disappears. All Jisung can see is _white white white_ as he idly stares at the floor, and his mind becomes blank.

And if earlier, he’s been feeling like the world is against him, this time, he knows it in his heart. All Jisung feels is nothing, _almost_. His shoulders are now numb. His throat is closing up. And when he closes his eyes again for the nth time that night, he wants to drown in the darkness. _I just want to drown_. _I just want to_ — The world feels _so_ large, and he feels _so_ small. And he smells the sadness from everyone in the room. He can taste them too. He’s getting dizzy.

_‘It’s an accident. He fell down. His parents were out when it happened, so it’s hours later when they found him.’_

‘ _It’s unexpected. He was used to climbing there before, his parents said. So it’s confusing, but it’s still undeniably alarming.’_

These were what their manager said.

_‘It’s rare. He doesn’t always climb on the roof. We remember him saying that it’s only when he wants to clear his mind.’_

_‘It’s an unfamiliar routine. He even has papers with him and a pen. We remember him mumbling about finally writing a song.’_

These were what Minho’s parents said.

Minho was already unconscious when they saw him in their garden with dried tears on his face, a pen still clutched in his hand, and an open notebook lay near him. They had tried to wake him up, but he didn’t move. And when they held him up, that was when they noticed blood from the grass where his head was. They had felt his blond hair, and there was definitely blood. And that was all it took for them to run to the hospital under the cold starless night.

Jisung tries to stop himself, but he knows he’s crying. He’s worried, and he’s anxious. He feels like his heart has completely stopped. He knows he should try to calm down, but he doesn’t want to.

He sees Chan walking to Minho’s parents through his eyes filled with tears. He sees him speaking to them. He hears the words, _‘He will be okay.’_ Jisung sees Chan walking to him next, the sound of his footsteps overlaying the sound of Jisung’s sniffles. He sees him speaking to him. He dreads the words, though.

**“It will be okay.”**

\---

It’s in front of his laptop when Jisung remembers their conversation from before.

They were at the studio. Jisung was there first, trying to write and produce songs two days before his deadline. He wouldn’t have moved an inch or two, even if someone offered him cheesecake. But Minho insisted that he would come. He even declared that he would eventually persuade the younger to go outside and hang out later. However, the day progressed, and the two were still in the studio.

Minho was on a swivel chair at first, cutely playing around while he let Jisung do his thing. Minutes later, he jokingly tried to dance to one of their upcoming songs, ‘Boxer _,_ ’ until it became serious to the point he had even come up with a choreograph for the whole chorus. More minutes later, he was beside Jisung, his hands splayed on the table, his chin resting on his left upper arm, watching Jisung as he worked.

And all was quiet except for the occasional sound of Jisung’s pen kissing the surface of the papers. Until Minho unexpectedly asked, ‘ _Sungie, will you ever write a love song?’_

Jisung’s memory cuts, and he’s taken back to the present.

He’s still in front of his laptop, his phone lying near it on the left side, a notebook and a pen casually placed beside it on the other. He’s also rushing right now because of a deadline, but it’s due next week. So the day finds him not in the studio as usual, but in a hospital room, sitting in the corner. The white walls are still mocking him, but he has swiftly grown accustomed to it now after three days.

Right after the accident, Jisung had slept on the room’s couch with no blanket and pillow. His neck had hurt because of stiffness. Then when Seungmin had woke him that afternoon, he cupped Jisung’s face. _‘Hannie, he’ll be fine, but take care of yourself so you would be too while we wait for him to wake up.’_

It wasn’t only Seungmin that Jisung had woken up to; all the missing members from the previous night were now there. Hyunjin and Jeongin were hugging each other. The older vocalist explained to the confused and still sleepy Jisung that they all got back from their homes once Chan told them the news.

Later in the evening, he had shakingly raised his hand to volunteer to keep watch even without Manager Park or the other members asking him. They had expected it, of course. But instead of the typical teasing (because the group had always found them refusing to be away from each other), Jisung only got pitiful looks from them.

He would have offered to stay 24 hours straight, but Minho’s parents requested that he should sleep comfortably in a bed at night and keep watch in the morning instead.

So he did, bringing along his things to distract himself from breaking down. Because he can’t avoid feeling so useless whenever he looks at his best friend on the hospital bed. Maybe he’s torturing himself the moment he decided to stay close. But it’s better than being far away, not knowing what to do. He’s afraid of every second or minute that passes by that Minho is still unconscious, but at least he’s right next to Jisung, and even for a tiny bit, Jisung can keep calm.

He slumps his head on the table, his chin getting slightly hurt. But he doesn’t care. Instead, he keeps his gaze on Minho, watching the way his stomach moves up and down. Jisung also eyes the lines on Minho’s heart monitor, internally begging for anyone to show a sign or anything at all that Minho would wake up.

But nothing happens.

So Jisung sighs.

 **“I’m dreaming,”** he repeats his daily mantra, still half believing that maybe with this, some deity would listen to him and wake him up instead.

But nothing also happens.

So Jisung sighs again.

This time, he doesn’t wish for anything. Because he remembers his conversation with Minho again. He remembers Minho’s parents speaking about a song.

He whispers to the room, **“What did you write? I want to know.”**

But of course, Minho doesn’t say anything. And Jisung swallows a sob as he realizes that he misses Minho’s voice, misses how it’s soothing whenever he talks to him, misses all their talks, casual, nonsense, and deep conversations, all of it. Jisung misses Minho’s laugh, misses how it’s addicting and contagious, misses his tiny pause before his last _‘ha.’_ Jisung misses Minho’s mind, misses how they always just know what the other is thinking about before words are said at all, misses how they just fit.

Jisung misses Minho’s bunny teeth, misses Minho’s feline smile, misses Minho’s owly eyes.

Jisung misses Minho’s warmth whenever he’s close — close as in he’s within Jisung’s reach, close as in when Jisung calls his name, Minho will look at him as if Jisung is something he’ll never get tired of. Close like _before_. Not close like _this_. Not like this, not when Jisung’s favorite person is just lying _there_. Because it’s been days of being _so_ close to Minho, but Jisung is missing him.

\---

The next day, after he enters the hospital room, Jisung finds himself in front of Minho’s mother, a notebook in her outreached hand while she says, **“I heard you yesterday, so I thought I’d give it to you.”**

It doesn’t click right away because Jisung feels a little bit guilty whenever Minho’s parents are near him since the accident. He feels a tiny bit guilty because he thinks it’s his fault. All he could think about is, _What if they know?_ And if they know, would they still have accepted Jisung’s request to keep watch in the first place? Would they still treat him nicely? Would they chase him away from Minho?

It doesn’t click right away, so Jisung dumbly asks, **“What?”**

Mrs. Lee looks at him pitifully. The young male is almost sure that he’d never seen such sadness in her eyes before. She reaches for Jisung’s hand and places the notebook on his palm. **“You wanted to know, right?”** Then she leaves the room, bidding him goodbye but promises to return later for the night.

Jisung places his things on the same table as yesterday, but he doesn’t sit on the chair next to it. Instead, he walks over to Minho’s bed and positions himself on the nearby seat.

He doesn’t look at Minho’s lying form right away; he closes his eyes first, inhaling then exhaling. It’s hard because the feeling of being useless comes back, flowing inside his heart like it’s poison. He can’t stop it, but he’ll ignore it for now. The notebook on his hand burns the longer Jisung takes his time to prepare himself. But the drumming on his chest weighs more pain.

When he finally opens his eyes, Jisung tries to smile while trying to ask for his best friend’s permission. **“Minho-hyung, please don’t be angry if you’ll find out soon that I’ve read this, okay?”**

He doesn’t get a reply (of course).

Still, Jisung nods as if Minho gave him an _‘Okay.’_

The notebook is clearly new like it’s recently bought. It’s unwrinkled as if it’s untouched, save for the crumpled paper on the first page filled with words. Jisung takes all of it and realizes they’re scribbles of lyrics from different songs. Some are ‘She’s In The Rain’ by The Rose ( _‘I’m dying inside, I wanna think that it’s a lie. Why why?’_ ) and ‘Say Something’ by A Great Big World ( _‘Say something, I’m giving up on you; I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you’_ ). But that isn’t all. His eyes catch some smudges of ink on the lower part and recognize a faint trace of trickles of liquid.

Jisung gulps, glancing at Minho again. This is making him more desperate. But it also makes him feel like he doesn’t want to continue onto the next page.

 **“I don’t want to imagine you crying,”** he utters to Minho, silently, breathlessly, almost like a whisper. _So I’ll convince myself these aren’t tears._

He retakes a deep breath. Then he turns the paper over.

The second only consists of two sentences. The first is on the very top, written in tiny font: _‘It was only a joke before. But I never thought it would eventually happen.’_ The second is in the middle part, underlined twice: _‘I guess you never saw me.’_

Jisung stops at that, closing the notebook at once. This is hurting him more than it should. _No_ , this is hurting him more than he expects it should. Because did he really make Minho heartbroken that he finally ends up motivated to write a sad love song?

He imagines Minho with this notebook in hand, his eyes closed, his lips shaking as he calms himself. Jisung imagines Minho standing on the roof of his house, clutching the notebook to his chest before finally sitting on the tiles. Jisung imagines Minho crying as he holds his pen, dreadfully writing on the notebook with a heavy feeling on his chest.

Jisung stops at that, cursing himself for picturing what Minho felt before the accident. It’s making him more guilty than he already is. He already knows it’s really his fault at this point.

When he looks at Minho again, Jisung wipes his crying face while trying to laugh at his best friend. **“You know what? Why did you even climb on a roof? You’re an idiot who’s afraid of heights, right?”**

He doesn’t get an answer (of course).

He won’t get to have any response at all; he’s just talking to a quiet room.

Jisung is an idiot. _I’m an idiot._

\---

It’s an impulsive choice, a spur-of-the-moment decision really, then suddenly, Jisung’s back is on the floor, his eyes on the ceiling. His head hurts but to him, it can never compare to the ache inside his chest.

 **“What are you doing?”** a voice asks from the direction of the bedroom door.

Typically, the first thing that anyone would have queried is why he is awake at this time, but lately, no one has batted an eye. No one has questioned him because they already know the answer.

The rapper turns his head to look at the one who spoke, his neck straining. It’s Jeongin, with a confused expression on his face, who would’ve been gone already since his announcement earlier to get iced americano.

 _Ah, yes, Jeongin’s daily routine along with Minho_ , Jisung recalls. The two people besides Seungmin who were always early. Two morning persons who had decided to accompany each other in their pursuit of caffeine for their weary bones. And Jisung would have had come along with them every time if only he isn’t more inclined to just sleep in.

 **“Hyung, are you alright?”** Jeongin inquires again since the older didn’t respond; he just stared at the maknae.

**“No— Yes, sorry. I was just out of it, I guess.”**

Then there’s that look again, the look of pity that Jisung’s getting a lot. But it’s only a second until the younger one shows a different look. The rapper isn’t sure, but he thinks it’s a slight irritation reflecting on Jeongin’s face. Until it also disappears in a flash.

 **“Please be okay.”** And with that, the youngest member departs, leaving Jisung, who’s still on the floor.

It’s been five days, and nothing has happened. Minho is still unconscious from the accident.

It’s been five days, and nothing has changed. Jisung is still praying to wake up from this dream.

It’s the same feeling when he opened his eyes this morning. The ceiling of their room is too much _white white white_ , and he wanted to vomit. But then he thought about Minho’s state; what does he see during his deep sleep? Does his brain supply a vision of him floating in the Milky Way? Would there be stars around him, overjoyed at his presence but demand him to go back? Or is he in an endless path of darkness where he continues to wander? Or is he running around in a garden with flowers so ethereal it keeps him distracted from waking up?

Then Jisung thought about what Minho saw as he fell down from their roof. Or about what it feels like falling down. And that’s how Jisung found himself throwing his body out of his bed and onto their bedroom floor.

 **“I just wanted to know the feeling of falling,”** he reasons to no one.

\---

Jisung towers over Minho’s bed one last time before he leaves the hospital for the night.

He tries not to cup the older’s cheek as he begins to bid his temporary farewell. _You’re not worthy of touching him right now_ , he reminds himself.

 **“Sometimes I wonder, if I take back my words, would you come back?”** he whispers.

The room is silent, except for the beep sounds from the heart monitor and the soft yet painful breaths coming from Jisung. It’s expected, but he’s still always hopeful every time he attempts to have a conversion with Minho.

And tomorrow, he’ll still feel the same.

 **“Please wake up soon,”** he begs one last time before he walks away.

\---

It’s not two a.m., but it’s two p.m., and Jisung is running.

He shouldn’t be in this situation. He should’ve been the first one to greet _him_ , but fate really wants Jisung to suffer. The only day he decides to sleep in since the accident, it’s the day that the universe chooses to grant Jisung’s prayer.

Last night was his deadline, so he didn’t sleep right away even after returning from the hospital. In the wee hours of the night, the light from his laptop screen kept the living room from being swallowed by darkness. He changed his sitting positions many times every ten minutes. It’s a little long after four o’clock when he finally got to close his eyes.

He woke up to the sound of his alarm, indicating he should prepare to go back to the hospital. But Hyunjin had messaged to say that he would replace Jisung just this morning to keep watch so Jisung can take his time to regain energy.

The next thing he knew, he woke up again, but this time, to the sound of his phone ringtone. He greeted the caller with a groggy _‘Hello?’_ as sleep still refused to slip from his eyelids. But once Changbin’s voice says the next words, Jisung jumped from his bed and flashed around their dorm, almost tripping every now and then just to make it out of there.

_‘Jisung, Minho-hyung woke up.’_

As fate did it, Jisung stumbled on the sidewalk only to realize the heavy traffic. He can’t catch a taxi quickly at this rate. So he groaned, spontaneously deciding to run instead in the direction of the hospital. It totally passed his mind that the location is about 30-45 minutes away by car. He abruptly stopped once he grasps the fact. Jisung went down to his knees and whimpers. _No, no, no!_ His hands went straight to his hair, tangling his fingers on the strands as hard as he can like his life depended on it. It might as well because his vision was turning black from frustration.

But maybe the world isn’t totally against him. Someone suddenly grabbed Jisung on his shoulders to let him stand up. He almost threw a punch until he saw the familiar corn silk blob of hair and brown freckles. It’s Felix, with his eyebrows twisted and his eyes unfocused. Perhaps he’d been feeling the same way as Jisung because he yelled, _‘What are you doing? Let’s go!’_ then he pushed him into an open vehicle’s door where he met Seungmin and Jeongin.

The youngest explained that they all came from the JYP building, planning on doing a Vlive. But the broadcast was only about 16 seconds. Seungmin got a call from Chan later about the news; he hurriedly ended the _live_ and told the two about the situation. The fans were obviously dismayed, but Jeongin retaliated by posting selfies to apologize. Manager Park was still discussing with the staff if they would eventually delete the Vlive app video.

Jisung took it all in in his left ear, but he knows it would come out of his right ear later. The beating inside his chest was too loud to let him concentrate on any other thing. He kept looking at the road, checking for the familiar route or entrance of the hospital. He can almost feel his blood flowing rapidly to and from his heart. And once the car pulled over in front of the location, Jisung dashed at the speed of light.

It’s two p.m., and after he prayed for the hundredth time for Minho to wake up, Jisung’s running to witness his answered plea.

He pushes through the room’s door with shaking hands, sweaty from being giddy all this time. All eyes are on him, Chan’s, Changbin’s, Hyunjin’s, Mr. & Mrs. Lee’s, and even the doctor’s. But Jisung’s are only focused on one person: _Minho_ — Minho, who, instead of his usual lying state, is now sitting on his bed.

And Jisung’s mind is just full of _Minho Minho Minho_ , taking no notice of everyone’s states as he makes a beeline to his favorite person in the world. He didn’t even notice the tears that started to flow on his cheeks until Minho ( _Minho!_ ) speaks ( _speaks!_ ) to him.

**“Oh, hello. Please don’t cry, too.”**

Jisung stops in his tracks because _something_ is definitely wrong. He can _feel_ it.

That’s when he notices everyone’s faces: confused, distraught, and miserable (he knows he’s not always good at interpreting, but this time, Jisung _knows_ he’s right). Minho’s parents are crying, but it’s not because of happiness. Changbin also has his face wet, and Chan is more than ready to do more than being teary, while Hyunjin is already bawling his eyes out. The doctor is frowning, his forehead wrinkled.

That’s when he also notices Minho, who is looking at him emotionlessly and _so_ distantly as if Jisung is someone he isn’t sure of; the rapper doesn’t know anymore if that hurts more than the pain his heart is feeling these past few days.

Jisung hears the swaying of the room door as the other members come inside. But he doesn’t care; he ignores it.

He steps forward bravely despite not knowing if he should. **“What’s happening?”** he asks, addressing everyone.

Hyunjin moves from his spot and suddenly throws himself at Jisung, hugging his body tightly. Changbin gives him a sad smile before whispering something to the doctor. But even before the latter says anything, the patient sitting on the bed beats him to it.

 **“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything,”** he announces, then he laughs awkwardly as he feels all their gaze directed at him. **“I don’t know who I am or anyone of you. I’m sorry.”**

If Jisung blamed himself before for how Minho ended up in unconsciousness, this time again, Jisung blames himself for not constantly hoping for one thing: _for Minho to come back_. Because only praying for Minho to wake up resulted in this.

Or he would’ve continued to repeatedly wish that everything is only a dream. But Jisung concludes that it’s really not a dream; it’s a nightmare that he dreadfully wants to wake up from.

And Chan was wrong; things won’t be okay because Jisung knows that it will all go downhill from here.

<<-

**“Sungie, will you ever write a love song?”**

(A pen pausing its jotting down duties)

**“No…? I don’t want to steal Changbin-hyung’s title.”**

**“…I want to write a love song.”**

**“Really, hyung?”**

**“Yeah, but I don’t know how to. I’m still trying to learn writing in general. I’m getting ahead of myself by wanting to.”**

**“It’s okay to get ahead sometimes. It can be a motivation, I think. But hyung, will it be a happy one, though?”**

**“Hmm… happy?”**

**“Happy like an in-love kind of love song.”**

**“I’m** — **I’m not in love.”**

**“…then, will it be a sad love song?”**

**“I’m not… heartbroken.”**

**“…it doesn’t always need to feel a certain kind of emotion just to write a certain kind of love song.”**

**“Yes, but it’s always better because you’ll know your words are honest.”**

**“Ah, just like I know my words are real in all the songs I’ve written.”**

**“Exactly!”**

**“Then, what do you prefer, hyung?”**

(A laugh bombarding the silent studio)

**“Maybe it’s easier to write when I’m sad because right now, I’m happy, yet I can’t write anything.”**

-x-


	2. (2) and you need to know that nobody could take your place // ‘cause you’re the only one i need to put a little love on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> \+ it's been months since i posted this *yells*  
> i'm kind of regretting that i wrote them as they are in here (as kpop idols, as stray kids) because now, i don't quite know how to write management plans about minho's amnesia (do you have suggestions?). lmao. but we're already here, so yeah  
> \+ p.s. i'm not sure if minlix came back together to their dorm after jyp brought them back for their last mission duringthe survival show. but i wrote it like that here  
> 

_[…] Mad warm when you get close to me_

_Slow dance these summer nights / Our disco ball’s my kitchen light_

_And you need to know / That nobody could take your place, your place_

_And you need to know / That I’m hella obsessed with your face, your face_

_Oh, my heart hurts so good / I love you, babe, so bad, so bad […]_

~ LANY, “ILYSB”

_Is it wrong that I still don’t know my heart_

_[…] I’ve still got so much love hidden beneath this skin / So darling_

_Put a little love on me / Put a little love on me_

_When the lights come up and there’s no shadows dancing / I look around as my heart is collapsing_

_‘Cause you’re the only one I need / To put a little love on me_

~ Niall Horan, “Put A Little Love On Me”

-<-

When Minho asks Jisung for the first time, it’s during their survival show. It’s weird yet comforting and comical, but it’s also bittersweet.

It happens when the young rapper just finds himself stumbling to their dorm’s living room at around midnight, bundled up with a thick blanket around his head and his body. He’s also metaphorically a bundle of nerves at the moment. He’s restless and can’t seem to sleep.

Tomorrow is another big day. Not just for Jisung but for the other members too. He bets he isn’t the only one on edge. Well, except for Changbin, who’s already asleep as a corpse back in their shared room (and it’s probably thanks to his Munchlax plushie). Jisung is only a tiny bit envious. He isn’t sure about the other two, though. He didn’t bother to sneak a peek at their beds as he passed them earlier.

Jisung continues his stride to the couch, his blanket getting in the way of his feet with every step. But once he’s close, he throws himself down with his face diving first. He lets out a soft grunt once he lands, and it vibrates through the silent space. Seconds pass, and Jisung is still lying there face down and contemplating ways to get a good night’s rest (if his body ever permits him).

Their constant practice these days is creeping its way inside his chest, giving him shudders. He would have taken this opportunity to do one last go-through of his part for tomorrow, but he’s afraid if he does it one more time, he’ll eventually mess it up when it’s really time to perform. He’s always bursting with confidence before everyone, but he does get jittery from time to time; he is still human, after all.

He lets out a deep sigh then proceeds to fix his position on the couch. He’s facing the empty room. Except it’s not vacant anymore, it has Jisung now. It has an agitated young rapper who’s wide awake at almost one in the morning, looking like a burrito lamenting in the dark.

But it isn’t totally dim in the living room of their shared dorm. The large windows welcome the moonlight, making its home on the floor. Little dust particles on the ground are accentuated by the soft glow, and Jisung imagines Seungmin complaining later on about insufficient cleaning. The former smiles at the thought.

Since they started to live here, everyone had quickly gotten into their own routines, as if being with other boys isn’t anything peculiar or inconvenient in the slightest. They’ve felt comfortable around each other; no one can argue about this. And Jisung knows they’ve also found comfort from each other too. Maybe it’s safe to say that the fate of the eight persons here are tied together, and they’re all willing to seek it out through the missions, through everything, until they make it, and until the end.

Jisung’s heart calms down, his chest hurting less after thinking about how amazingly _special_ this all is.

 **“Ah, are you one of those types who become their true selves when it’s a full moon?”** someone speaks, breaking Jisung’s trance. And the latter almost screams at the unknown if he didn’t recognize the voice right away. But thankfully, he did. _Unexpectedly_ , he did.

He displays a broad smile on his lips, trying to give off an eerie effect. His eyes grow large as he makes his eyebrows dance up and down at the boy standing a distance away from him. **“Yes, and I’m currently looking for something to eat. Something munchy and mushy,”** he declares in this hopefully creepy voice. But as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his facial expression changes; he cringes.

Minho, the boy, didn’t even laugh at Jisung’s failed attempt at a joke. Instead, he keeps a poker face then he goes to join the younger on the sofa. As he comes nearer, Jisung can see the shirt he’s wearing is dark blue with a red hint on the sides. It isn’t black like he initially thought a while ago. Minho is also in his usual red sweatpants (Jisung’s favorite, if one would ask). But what Jisung concentrates on is Minho’s hair, all messy and disordered, probably from lying and moving around on his bed, yet it still looks fluffy and soft, and Jisung wants to card his fingers through the strands, and— Jisung looks away timidly, feeling a slight burn on his neck.

If Minho noticed it, he didn’t comment on anything. But he says, **“You would’ve fooled me, you know. Continue,”** pertaining to Jisung’s atrocity a minute ago.

The latter only awkwardly clears his throat and instead asks, **“Why are you awake, hyung?”**

Minho is curled up like a ball beside Jisung, hugging his knees with his arms. He tilts his head and offers a tiny grin. **“Same thing as you, perhaps?”**

And Jisung accepts that because somehow, he _knows_ that Minho _knows_. It’s their surreal connection, making its existence known once again for the nth time since they met; most of the time, both of them and everyone isn’t surprised anymore.

He shifts a little closer to the older. **“Are you cold? Do you want to share the blanket?”** he inquires, his hand ready to burry Minho along with him under the thick cover.

The latter replies with a _‘Yes, please,’_ and he also budges closer to Jisung.

Once again, silence fills the living room, its walls watching the two males sitting cozily on the sofa. It comes to the point that their tender breathing conquers the quietness of it all that one would almost assume they’ve fallen asleep.

However, Jisung’s eyes are still open, wandering everywhere, except at the boy on his side, so he doesn’t know if Minho is still awake.

Suddenly, the older boy questions, **“Do your muscles ache? I have a muscle balm, just in case.”**

The unexpectedness of it all makes Jisung do a turn, his neck snapping in Minho’s direction, his eyebrows meeting.

But the dancer doesn’t look back. He even continues to say, **“I, myself, am feeling fine after rubbing some. I think I can even lift you up.”** And with just how quickly the conversation started, it escalates into Minho abruptly standing up and doing some stretching in the middle of the living room.

Jisung, on the other hand, is still on the couch, dumbfounded and clueless on what the hell is happening. But he gets up immediately when the older signaled for him to stand too, taking his blanket off his head and body. Minho grabs his shoulders and places him on the farther side of the room.

 **“Hyung?”** the younger tries to catch the other person’s attention. But all he gets is a scolding of _‘Sshhh!’_ as the other busies himself on his phone and walks towards the large windows.

After a moment, a song is suddenly playing from Minho’s phone, and it’s a foreign song. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, his mouth forming an _‘o’_ as he listens. When he recognizes it as the song ‘(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life’ from the ‘Dirty Dancing’ film, everything instantly clicks, and he shakes his head hard.

 **“Yah! Hyung!”** he whisper-yells (because it’s already 1:30 a.m.), his hands hovering on the sides of his mouth. **“Please don’t tell me what I think this is!”**

Minho only smirks, and it startles Jisung’s heart out of his chest, making him focused on the older’s lips. He momentarily forgets his silly dilemma until Minho utters, **“Come on, Jisung! I promise I won’t let you fall!”**

Once again, the younger rapper shakes his head, not believing that they would do this, that Minho has convinced Jisung to do this. That _he_ even convinced himself. But he feels excited about the idea of it. **“Don’t let me hit the ceiling!”** he demands before he prepares himself.

And as the song nears the hook, Jisung runs with his socked feet, silently hoping he won’t slip. The distance to Minho is short, but it didn’t become a problem at all. He takes his leap, and Minho clutches onto Jisung’s waist as he lifts him up. Jisung feels his hand extend in the air, and he giggles. The music continues its beat, and Minho turns him around slowly and carefully.

Jisung feels exactly as the song says. It’s entirely new, this feeling. He has never felt this way before; he feels close to ecstasy, his heart beating twice as much per second as he gets a view of the living room from his current spot. The moonlight is still alive, and it caresses his face as Minho continues to spin him around.

When the chorus ends, the dancer gradually lowers Jisung down. Once his feet touch the ground, Jisung hits Minho on his shoulder. They quietly titter together; their smiles are so wide, they almost hurt the corner of their lips. Minho even jokingly tries to dip Jisung, mimicking another iconic moment from the film’s final dance.

 **“How about another one?”** Minho cuts in between their laughs. He proceeds to take his phone from where he lay it on the floor and shuffles on the screen.

Jisung is still catching up with his breaths, but he eyes Minho’s fingers as he typed on the screen. The shorter boy barely registers the words, _Time of My Life_ , wondering for a split second about what similarly titled song Minho will play this time when the latter holds Jisung’s hand and twirls him without warning. The taller even whirls himself around to the music, which later Jisung identifies as a song by David Cook.

It’s an unexpected shift of mood, but he accepts it. Because really, Minho just _knows_ — knows when to give comfort when Jisung needs it, knows when to help Jisung stop worrying, knows when to make Jisung smile or laugh, knows when to provide Jisung with encouragement.

And Jisung is grateful. So he closes his eyes and moves his body to the song, hugging himself as he slow dances.

And he dances to his hopes and dreams, he dances to this moment in time before the moment tomorrow, he dances as if every second is the time of his life.

He dances until the song ends, and Jisung opens his eyes. He sees Minho observing him; he looks like a ghost with his back to the windows, moonlight shining against him and highlighting all his sides. He looks like a ghost, but Jisung isn’t afraid.

Minho reaches out his hands to Jisung, and the latter hurries into the former’s arms like he _knows_ he belongs there. He buries his face against the dancer’s neck, whispering a silent ‘ _Thank you, hyung’_ that Jisung hopes would reach Minho.

The older mumbles to the younger’s hair, **“We’ll do great, Jisung. Especially you, I know you’ll do.”**

More than the warmth that Minho’s hug radiates through Jisung’s form, his heart feels entirely greater. His heart is at peace, and for that moment, he smiles. And for that moment, he is absolutely sure that they would do fine.

 _Yes, everything will be fine… I’ll be fine,_ Jisung thinks. And he allows himself to breathe, one that chases away the last of his worries out of his system.

The next day, however, Minho gets eliminated.

[And it hits Jisung hard in the face as he walks away slowly from the boys crowding Minho. His tears aren’t the only ones falling tonight, and his heart isn’t the only one breaking at this moment. Minho’s parting with all of them will be engraved in their minds as one of their saddest memories. But why does Jisung feel like he’s going to end up crying for the rest of his life? Why does he feel like this will leave a dent in his heart that he won’t be able to mend even after a long, long time?

And as Minho stands in their dorm’s living room one last time with all the members that night, Jisung keeps his gaze on the floor. He stops the images that happened last night from fogging his vision; his tears are already clouding his focus, aren’t they enough?

Then he realizes he was busy fusing over himself last night that he didn’t even ask the older about his own doubts. Minho comforted Jisung even as he also needed reassurance. He feels like he failed Minho as a friend.

Jisung is an idiot. _I’m an idiot_.

He continues to stay still as everyone bids the dancer goodbye. Jisung only mumbles his, but he doesn’t spare him a glance. Because he _can’t_.

But once Minho carries his belongings towards the door, Jisung drops to the floor, and he embraces himself for support. He doesn’t want it to sink in, the thought of them not being able to go on with Minho. So Jisung refuses to see Minho go.

_Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look._

But after Jisung hears the door closing, he rises up, much to his own surprise, and he turns around. The young rapper struggles to walk straight with how heavy his chest feels and how his feet scorch with every step he takes. But he makes it to the entrance, and he makes it to their floor’s hallway. He wipes his tears away as he watches Minho walk… away from his hasty conclusion of getting to debut as part of Stray Kids… away from Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin, and Jisung. _Especially_ Jisung.

The younger watches, sniffing away the pain. He watches until Minho is out of view.]

\---

[Jisung sees the dark hair first, and his fingers twitch for a second as if they miss touching it. Then, when Minho comes into view after he enters the practice room, Jisung lets out a breath that feels like he’s been holding for too long.

He smiles widely to the ground, not wanting to show it to anyone. He wants to be selfish and keep his feelings to himself. This feeling like his heart has elevated to the clouds. This feeling like the world aligned with the stars. This feeling like nothing can compare to this moment. He wants to keep it a secret. Because it seems like if he lets his happiness leak out for anyone to see, it will all end. Like someone just wanted to ruin Jisung’s day by pranking him.

Jisung raises his head and looks onwards. He stares at Felix and Minho, observing every move they make, almost not listening to JYP anymore. He wants to make sure that this isn’t a twisted dream. He even pinches himself, but nothing happens. Later, as he meets Felix half-way in the middle of the room and touches the younger and feels he’s alive and real, Jisung concludes that it’s safe now to be happy.

And as he holds Felix’s hands, his eyes keep lingering to the other side of the practice room, where the other person is being crowded by the members. And he remembers the last time it happened, them gathering around Minho during his elimination. The painful image paints through Jisung’s thoughts, but this moment right here overlays it all. And Jisung feels so much bliss.

 _So so so much bliss._ ]

The young rapper finds himself stumbling into their living room later at around one a.m., holding his phone with his right hand and a hoodie in the other. His mind refuses to shut down for the day; he’s clueless about the reason. _Ugh_ , he really just wants to sleep.

Tomorrow is another day. Another _new_ day to talk about their mission ( _their last one!_ ). He should rest so he can have a fresh mind in the morning. But he bets he’s the only one who’s not dozing off into dreamland. And he is only a bit envious of them. Well, except Chan-hyung, who’s isn’t even in their dorm right now. But is there a time that he has adequately slept?

Jisung continues his stride to the couch, not even looking at his path as his eyes are set on his phone (there’s a song that’s haunting him lately, and he’s been trying to search for it two minutes ago; it’s a way to keep his mind busy and not think about other things). But once he’s close, he can now make out a figure already sitting there. The figure — Minho — is looking at Jisung as he has his knees pressed to his chest. A beat passes, and no one utters anything. The silence then continues to dance around the room.

Before this, the young male hasn’t really got to talk yet with the dancer. When he and Felix returned to their dorm, Jisung greeted them with an _‘Ah, you’re here again?’_ and that’s it. Those four words were the only ones exchanged between them, even if what he really wanted to say was _‘You’re home.’_ But he didn’t. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t utter them. It’s like his heart didn’t allow him.

He lets out a short chuckle then proceeds to sit on the couch. He’s alone in the living room, alone with Minho, both wide awake at past one in the morning, sitting comfortably and quietly beside each other.

Until Minho moves his feet to meet the floor and settles his hands on his thighs as he faces Jisung. The dancer’s owly eyes reflect the moonlight from the room’s large windows. It’s almost glowing in the dark, holding the stars hostage within it. And Jisung can’t stop looking back.

Somehow, he feels his heart calmer than ever, and his chest is less heavy than the prior weeks. He thinks how this scene right here seems to be significant, unique even. And he plasters on a smile, a wide one.

 **“You’re home,”** he finally says, only now realizing that maybe he only wanted to say these words to Minho… for reasons he doesn’t know quite yet.

Minho displays an even wider smile, his eyes crinkling at the corner. But then he’s back to a serious look after a second; he inspects the boy’s eyes in front of him. **“No, I sneaked in here, hoping to catch a prey I could eat while it’s a full moon,”** he declares in a prominent, sweetly disguised voice. But as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his facial expression changes; he cringes.

Jisung laughs, not because it’s funny but because his heart is so full of happiness that he can’t seem to contain it. He hits Minho’s shoulders, and as he does, he only notices the older’s shirt. He’s wearing a dark blue one with a red hint on the sides. He is also in his usual red sweatpants (and Jisung misses these, these familiar clothes). But what he misses more is Minho’s hair, looking fluffy and soft as ever, and Jisung wants to card his fingers through the strands. So he does. Even as he feels a slight burn on his neck.

If Minho noticed it, he didn’t comment on anything. But he says, **“You know you shouldn’t sleep late, right?”**

And to this, the rapper only shows his phone to the dancer, a lyric video of Jung Joonil’s ‘Hug Me’ is displayed. **“I’m—”**

Minho leans in closer to the screen, almost invading Jisung’s space. He smiles as he reads the title, then he eyes the younger. **“You want a hug from hyung?”**

And Jisung just ignores the mocking tone that the words have. Because once he hears them, he thinks, _Yes, I want that_. He wants it so bad ( _so bad_ ) his heart twinges to the fact that it’s been weeks since they’ve last embraced, and he misses Minho’s warmth. A warmth that plants a unique kind of comfort in Jisung’s mind.

But he doesn’t say his thoughts out loud, bumping his shoulder to Minho’s instead. **“No, I’m looking for a song, you see. But I can’t remember the title specifically,”** he retorts, fingers clicking the back button on the screen, planning to tuck away his phone.

But Minho yells a _‘Wait!’_ and he grabs the device away from Jisung. Suddenly, the older requests, **“Can you hum it for me? The song you want to know.”**

It should be an expected one because Jisung would ask the same thing too. But he still turns, his neck snapping at the older male. And he does what he is told, humming a melody that’s been stuck in his mind since this morning.

The dancer looks back at him, then he proudly announces, **“Ah! That’s _‘_ Amazing You _’_ by Han Dong Geun!” **And with just how quickly he recognized the song, he abruptly stands up and takes Jisung with him to the middle of the living room.

 **“Hyung?”** the rapper tries to say.

But Minho plays a song from Jisung’s phone, and the latter recognizes it right away as the one he’s searching for. Then the former throws the device to the couch, earning a slight yelp from Jisung. It’s followed by a confused sound when his waist is suddenly between Minho’s hands.

 **“Let’s dance.”** The taller male swings him to the gentle melody, smiling at the shorter with bright, hopeful eyes and charming white bunny teeth.

 **“What?”** Jisung pauses, remembering the first time they danced before realizing the position he’s in. **“Yah! Why am I acting as the girl here?”**

Minho grabs the other boy’s hands, guiding them to his middle. **“You do it too!”**

 **“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”** Jisung is lost. He retracts his palms from the other boy’s waist, feeling his ears burn. He resolves to put his hands on Minho’s neck instead. **“Like this, maybe?”**

And the dancer does the same thing, his fingers finding themselves in Jisung’s neck. The skin there also starts to burn, and the rapper wonders if his face is red and if it’s evident from the dim lighting of the living room.

 **“Hyung! Now we’re just choking each other!”** the rapper comments as a joke, his pitch becoming higher all of a sudden from him being flustered.

The taller takes a step back, his face displaying a stunned expression, then it changes to cheekiness. **“Han Jisung! Don’t tell me, this is your secret?”**

The shorter mentally pulls his hair out. **“Hyung, no!”** Then he hits Minho’s shoulder again for the third time that night.

They’re both laughing at each other’s remarks; their giggles almost disturb the quiet of the night. And the background song that they were supposed to dance to has long been forgotten. Both the boy’s eyes disappear from how broad their smiles are.

Seconds later, they do end up dancing, without any hands placed on waists or necks. They sway to the soft song with their eyes closed. They dance next to each other, and it feels comforting and fulfilling. To Jisung, it feels _right_. To Minho, it feels… it feels…

Jisung doesn’t know what it feels to Minho. But it would be nice if he feels the same. _It would be nice_ , the younger notes in his head. And he notes it in his heart but locks it with a hazy emotion. It’s strange. It’s foreign. And it really makes the tips of his fingers itch. And Jisung _wants_ to know; he _needs_ to know. And he’s willing to learn about it.

He takes a peek at the other boy next to him to find Minho’s eyes focused on him. And they’re shaking like they want to ask a question. Like they’re curious because of this moment. Jisung didn’t dare to move, too scared that he’ll break whatever this moment is.

Then he hears Minho breathe softly. Then he says breathlessly, **“Are you happy that I’m here, Jisung?”**

Jisung ponders at first if the question is about the older being here with him; of course, Jisung’s answer would be _‘Yes.’_ But then it might also be about Minho being with them all once again; to which, Jisung’s answer would be _‘Definitely yes.’_ But he doesn’t say any of it out loud; he didn’t reply to Minho. Instead, Jisung pushes himself onto the dancer’s space, colliding their bodies before he wraps him inside his arms. And he keeps moving until both of them hit the couch, crashing onto the surface.

The rapper glimpses at Minho from under his eyelashes; they’re both staring at each other. No words are exchanged between them. But it’s comfortable, and it’s tender. And Minho gives Jisung his usual feline smile. And Jisung suddenly feels like exploding.

As if to calm his beating heart, he peels himself off Minho and sits beside him instead. He unconsciously tries to catch his breath.

Once again, silence fills the living room; the walls are quiet as the two males sit cozily on the sofa. It comes to the point that their breathing is the only thing heard; one would almost assume they’ve fallen asleep.

However, the younger’s eyes are still open, wandering everywhere, except at the boy on his side, so he doesn’t know if the older is still awake.

 _This is something I don’t want to lose,_ Jisung suddenly thinks. It’s something that he doesn’t want to lose _again_. He wants the universe to promise to him that it would never allow anything similar to happen again. Because he thinks that if he ever misses Minho another time, he’s going to sink. The realization puts a tiny smile on the boy’s face.

And Jisung whispers, **“I think I missed you, hyung.”** _Nah, I know I do._

Minho unexpectedly responds, **“I know you do.”** (He does.)

So Jisung retaliates, **“Nah, I didn’t miss you at all.”** _Oh, but I did._

Minho muses, **“Mmm, I believe you.”** (He didn’t.)

\---

It isn’t something that Jisung expects at two a.m. in the morning. But it’s not entirely unexpected to the point that it’s unwanted. And Jisung wants it; he likes it even. Because when he finds himself alone together with Minho in the living room once again, it still brings out the same feeling. It’s comforting and fulfilling. It’s comfortable and tender. And it feels… _just_ _right_.

Minho asks, **“What is it this time?”** His eyes going mad as if reminding him that it’s terrible to be awake at this time.

And Jisung aloofly replies, **“Just a dream.”** But it made his heart ache; it made his heart petrified.

Minho says, **“Tell it like a mantra.”** He demands it in an affectionate tone as if he’s sure it would make it all better.

So Jisung repeats, **“It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream.”** And it echoes through the living room.

It’s been days since it was announced that all eight of them will debut. It’s been days, and Jisung is still wondering if somehow, the universe would later reveal that’s it’s all make-believe. It’s been days, and Jisung is still anxious about the reality of it all. Maybe that’s why all his thoughts suddenly conspire against him through a dream.

It isn’t in the form of a dark and scary nightmare. But JYP saying, _‘I’m sorry, but you’re not going to debut after all. It was just for a show’_ was enough to make Jisung wake up. Images of the members crying, staff spitting harsh words to their faces, and fans giving up on them flooded through his mind as an aftershock. It haunted him right away as he woke up. And the room was too dark that it added to the intensity of it all. He stood up, running away.

A frantic Jisung with no blankets wrapped around him or phone clutched in his hand was what greeted Minho as they both got out of their rooms. An exhausted Minho with bed hair and half-closed eyes was what Jisung saw before they wordlessly walked side by side to the living room’s sofa.

And that’s how they come to be. That was how they found themselves being alone together for the third time. Being showered by the blue moonlight, talking without sentences, breathing quietly, and just sitting there. And it felt nice forgetting what Jisung was running away from.

 _It’s just a dream_ , he prays continuously for the nth time in his mind.

 **“It’s just a dream,”** Minho repeats out loud one last time for Jisung.

The latter looks curiously, blinking slowly. **“Are you not gonna ask me?”**

And Minho just makes his signature _‘Hmm?’_ sound, also blinking at the young rapper. When Jisung doesn’t respond, the dancer stands up, walking away backward as he maintains eye contact. **“I won’t ask anything. Not unless you want me to. Not until you’d tell me yourself,”** he says carefully, as if every word is fragile for Jisung.

It leaves him aching to pour his heart out about everything he’s scared and unsure of in this world. But Minho doesn’t let him because he holds out his hand all of a sudden. And Jisung lifts an eyebrow, inquiring.

 **“Can I have this dance?”** the older asks, with his soft smile and with his soft voice.

Jisung scoffs, ignoring the sudden increase of speed of his heartbeat. **“What is this? HSM?”**

 **“Ah! That’s a great idea!”** Minho drops his hand as his face lightens up. He produces his phone from his pocket, immediately scrolling on the screen and typing with his fingers. The song from the film ‘High School Musical 3’ plays, its beat spreading across the living room. Then Minho reaches out his hand again as he sings along to Vanessa Hudgens, **“ _Take my hand._ ”**

And the young male takes it, laughing as he drags himself to his feet. He doesn’t even complain when the older holds him in his waist as he begins to move Jisung around the living room. They take one step, another step, then a third one, actions that are in sync with the song’s beat. Jisung has his hands tied behind Minho’s neck, and his head sways to the artists’ charming voices. He even sings along to them in his mind, doing his own second voice. _‘Won’t you promise me that you’ll never forget to keep dancing whenever we go next.’_

But Minho is the opposite, unashamedly singing the lyrics out loud. **“ _It’s like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you._ ” **He’s looking at Jisung, his eyes crinkling at the corners with how wide his smile is. Clearly, he’s enjoying this, and Jisung feels the same. If his own smile doesn’t say otherwise.

Even as the song ends, the two keep dancing, their socks on their feet brushing against the floor. It’s a cold night, but with their proximity, it makes up for the wanted warmth.

A minute passes, and Jisung decides to stop them both. His eyes are locked with Minho’s, steadily looking deep into them, searching for something, searching for stars. His heart is steady, and his breathing is calm, but his body is tense. There’s that feeling again, the one he felt nights ago. It’s still strange. It’s still foreign. And it still makes the tips of his fingers itch. It’s a feeling that he can only match with Minho next to him, with dim lighting in the living room, with them dancing foolishly or slowly.

Jisung weighs whether to go for it or not, to maybe ask if the older feels the same.

Meanwhile, Minho waits. And he waits patiently, quietly, fondly.

Jisung doesn’t know if Minho knows what’s he’s waiting to hear from him. But he chooses to tell him the second thing on his mind, **“I’m scared that maybe this is all just make-believe. That us finally debuting isn’t real.”** He frees his hands from Minho, aligning them to his sides. He’s looking everywhere in the living room all at once. And his eyebrows furrow as fingers twitch.

It’s silent for a while, and it takes a minute. A minute that gives Jisung a whole new level of terrifying. He doesn’t look at Minho anymore, afraid that he will be gone if he does, and everything will also disappear at the same time the universe will materialize his fears. But Minho suddenly speaks. It takes a minute, but he speaks, and it’s proof that Minho is definitely still there.

 **“Jisung. Sung. Sungie.”** The words are light in the air. The older boy moves his hands to pat them on Jisung’s neck, his fingers brushing the skin carefully. **“It’s real. We made it. I made it. You made it. You don’t have to worry anymore. If you think you’re only dreaming, I promise you, you aren’t.”**

And the younger just wants to tear up. Because when Minho says it, it’s like there’s no other way but to believe it. So Jisung does and pushes all his fears away. He lays his hand above Minho’s, replacing them to his head instead. And Minho gets it right away, giving the shorter boy his favorite head pats.

 **“Hyung, I want cuddles,”** Jisung boldly requests later.

To which the taller boy chuckles, already encompassing the other within his arms. **“Why do you even ask?”**

When they finally decide to go back to sleep, Minho reminds Jisung again that he’s not dreaming and that they’re even moving dorms later in the morning. So really, he shouldn’t worry about anything at all. Unfortunately, Jisung _did_ forget about the last one, but he doesn’t admit it out loud, so he gags that he doesn’t need to be reminded twice. And Minho just throws him a glare before tackling him to the ground with tickles.

\---

[And it continues like the first time, the second, and the third. Whenever Jisung finds himself stumbling into the living room even at their new dorm, in some way, Minho would also come walking in and end up sitting with the younger on the sofa. Sometimes, it’s even the other way around. It’s like they know when the other one is awake. It’s like the universe just wants them to be with each other and be there for each other.

They will talk about their worries if they don’t mind being vulnerable during the wee hours of the night. But most of the time, they just have small talks, throwing in some jokes in between. But it always ends in the same thing: dancing. Whether to a slow or funky song. Whether to a local or foreign one. Whether to their own music or to other artists’. They dance in the living room, under the glow of the moon that barely enters from the windows.

And it always gives Jisung the same feeling. The same feeling of comfort. The same feeling of coziness. The same feeling of _home_. But that is all he ever gets to name it. Because his heart always concentrates on the person dancing next to him. Rather than the emotions waving him back and forth, he waves his body to whatever music they’re dancing to. _For now_ , he would always think, _all I want is this moment_.]

->-

It’s another night, and a figure can be seen sitting on the couch of their living room. The figure — Jisung — is watching the second hand of the clock displayed on the wall near him, watching it as it moves, watching it as it strikes 12; it’s already 1:43 a.m.

It’s one of those times that Jisung can’t sleep again, and he doesn’t know why. And instead of lying on his bed, hearing his roommates snoring and enjoying their sleep, he went to the living room and sat quietly. He’s been wondering if he’s feeling okay or if there’s something he’s anxious about. But he isn’t. So he’s starting to question the universe’s plans for him tonight. And before he even gets to theorize an answer, he hears a door open from somewhere in their dorm.

Jisung moves his head in the direction of the sound, and he sees a silhouette. He recognizes it right away, of course. Unexpectedly but not surprisingly. Because why wouldn’t he? When it’s always the same one that he sees most nights like this.

Minho, the silhouette’s owner, doesn’t say anything. But as he spots the rapper from the sofa, he motions his hand in a wave to say _‘Hi,’_ then he begins his stride to where Jisung is.

As the dancer walks towards the other boy, the glow coming from the windows slowly meets every inch of his body. Starting from his feet to his thighs to his middle, then to his chest and shoulders, and lastly, his face. And Jisung finds it captivating. Jisung finds Minho captivating.

He remembers the other boys calling Minho good-looking one time and how the fans all agree. He remembers noticing it too the first time he saw the older. He still thinks that Minho is handsome, but it’s just mostly stored at the back of his mind. All he knows now is that Minho’s personality matches well with him. And Minho is the one he most wants to hang out with. And for everything, he would almost always run to Minho first.

All he knows is he especially loves being with Minho at hours past midnight.

As the dancer stands before Jisung, he looks like a ghost with his side to the windows, moonlight shining against him and highlighting all of him. He looks like a ghost, but Jisung isn’t afraid.

He keeps on looking at Minho’s face, into Minho’s eyes, searching for something, searching for stars. As Minho’s pair of brown orbs twinkle in the soft light, Jisung realizes that he’s been trying to pinpoint when exactly did everything change.

 _So this was what the universe wanted to do_ , he ponders. _Damn_.

And it just hits Jisung hard in the face as he grasps the fact. _Ah, I’m in trouble_ , he thinks. One: the realization tingles every inch of his skin. Because it’s sudden, but at the same time, it’s like he should’ve known from the start. Two: the realization makes him want to soar up to the clouds. Because it feels _so_ _right_ , and he feels like flying. Three: the realization squeezes his heart, making him hold his breath. Because this feeling is horrifying.

To Jisung, it’s different from becoming infatuated with someone or liking a person. It’s different from _‘I want you because of how you look like the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.’_ It’s different from _‘I want you because of how you’re exactly the one I need.’_ It’s different for the reason that it’s _‘I want you because of how you say my name, of how you look at me in the dark, of how you know a song that matches my emotions, of how you dance next to me before dawn.’_

Jisung swallows hard… as if it undoes his awareness of his emotions… as if it makes his feelings disappear. He blinks away everything because… _Do I want this?_ _Is it safe?_ He’s conflicted. He’s terrified. He’s… He’s—

Minho’s laugh breaks through Jisung’s thoughts of dilemma, and for a second, he forgets his worries and almost sings to the music of Minho’s giggle. Minho is saying something along the lines of how Jisung looks like he’s seen a ghost, then he proceeds to ask if the younger is actually awake because he seemed to be high on sleep. Jisung even hears the older asking, _‘Did you sleepwalk?’_ but he doesn’t answer, ignoring it instead because he’s focused only on one thing. He just wants to stare at the smile on Minho’s lips. And it comes back to bite Jisung’s ass again. _What am I doing?_

He gulps, shifting his gaze. He stands up, but it’s a wrong move. Because now, he’s closer to Minho, their faces a few inches away from each other. And Jisung feels more frantic that he wants to curse.

But the taller boy steps back into the middle of the living room, his phone already between his hands. He glances at Jisung for a second, the grin still pasted on his lips. He looks back down again, and then the music starts playing. It’s ‘Astronaut,’ their song, and Minho is whispering the lyrics to him. Then it escalates to him dancing like an old man, his hands punching the air, his hips swinging left to the right.

He’s clearly enjoying this, and he’s staring at Jisung like he’s expecting the other boy to start dancing too. But Jisung is still in his own world, still feeling like he should be cautious of his next steps. And it’s like Minho _knows_ because he says, **“Don’t be afraid, Sungie,”** as he faces his right palm up and curls his index finger to beckon the younger boy.

 _Don’t be afraid_ , Jisung repeats in his mind. He doesn’t know if he would stop being fearful from now on. But looking at Minho dancing in the dark, even if it amplifies his worries tenfold, he can’t stop thinking, _Yes, yes, yes_. So he moves his body even if it’s offbeat to the song. And he moves his body even if he’s still unsure. He moves his body, shaking all his hands and feet as if it also shakes away, for now, his uncertainties. _For now_ , he thinks, _all I want is this moment_.

Then he stops thinking all at once, giving the dance all his energy. He closes his eyes, and he moves his head in circles. He takes his time to enjoy it, taking in every second of the song and dancing like he’s insane. He doesn’t know that he’s actually dreading for it to end. But when it does, he doesn’t stop right away. He keeps on dancing, his eyes still closed. But he feels his eyelids are heavy, and he feels a chill run down his spine. He doesn’t want to give in, but he abruptly stops. His heart suddenly starts beating so fast as if it knows something before Jisung will.

He takes a peek at the other boy to find that Minho’s eyes are on him but are out of focus. They’re glazed over like they’re drunk because of this moment. Jisung didn’t dare to move, too scared that he’ll break whatever this moment is. (And he has a feeling that from now on, he will always be on a push-and-pull of _‘God, yes’_ and _‘Fuck, no_.’ Because this right here could possibly lead to everything his heart yearns or nothing he would like to lose.)

He hears Minho breathe softly. Then he says breathlessly, **“Sungie…”**

->>

 **“Hannie,”** someone says, their tone gentle as if something would break if it’s not in that manner. But Jisung ignores it, doesn’t even register who mentioned his name. Because his eyes are focused on one thing as soon as he set foot in their dorm.

He didn’t have anything on his plate that day. But he didn’t want to lay in his bed again, burning a hole in it. He was too tired from that, day after day, just lying there, almost not even moving an inch. At first, he thought it was better than stepping out of his room because that gives Jisung a high probability of running into _him_. And it was not because he didn’t want to — he desperately wanted to see _him_ — but it was because he knew he’ll end up crying.

And it had already been days of continuous crying at night when everyone is asleep, crying in the dark where no one can see. And he was too exhausted from that also.

So this morning, he dragged himself up to the showers, his eyes glued on the floor to avoid eye contact with anyone or _someone_. Thankfully, no one saw him; it seemed no one was currently in the dorm, and he was actually alone. So he continued his plan, and he went out.

He didn’t go to the studio, still dodging the chances of seeing _him_ there. Instead, he went to a nearby coffee shop. He had a mask on, and he wore his favorite bucket hat. He brought his laptop with him, along with a little notebook and a pen. He was thinking about writing since he knew it would distract him somehow from what he was feeling.

But that was just it. Jisung tried to write, really, but all his mind was screaming was _him_. And it was frustrating because he didn’t want to breakdown in a public place. He was clutching his pen so tight, almost bending it. During the last minute, he didn’t know how many times he sighed. And his head hurt. And his heart ached. And he just didn’t know what to do. So he just stared past the windows in front of where he was sat. His eyes followed every person rushing outside. And it continued like that until it was already afternoon, and he was already on the fourth cup of his iced americano. Or it was his sixth; he didn’t remember.

He paid for his drinks, and he turned away, his heart pulsating like it was going to come out of his chest. Whether it was from the large amount of caffeine that he took in or about how Jisung was in danger again because he was going back.

And he dreaded every step he took that sent him closer to their building. He dreaded it until the last second of his journey back to their dorm. It turned out, he had all the right to dread everything because after he entered the dorm, what greeted him was the sight of Minho ( _Minho Minho Minho_ ) dancing in their living room.

And he’s beautiful, gracing anyone who sees him with his moves, pale orange glow from the windows hugging the right parts of his body.

It’s almost a perfect sight as it resembles the Minho from before, the Minho that Jisung knows. But he prefers the moon’s soft blue light that the two of them have learned by heart.

It’s almost a perfect sight as it resembles the Minho that he knows, the Minho that dances next to him. Except for this time, Minho is dancing next to Seungmin.

The other members are also there, though, scattered around the two, sitting on the couch or on the floor. But Jisung’s mind chooses to ignore it, his eyes keeping a beeline on the two. And he would’ve kept on staring at them until someone grabs both of the young rapper’s shoulders. Until that someone coughs loudly, catching the attention of everyone there.

Jisung feels every pair of eyes on him, but he doesn’t care. And even with everyone’s gaze on him, the only thing that makes him shiver is Minho’s brown ones looking straight at him. And he’s smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

The shorter boy sees the way how Minho recognizes him (not recognize as Jisung, his best friend, but probably as Jisung, the one member who’s been hibernating in his room), and he sees the way how Minho’s smile grows wider.

 **“Han, hello!”** he yells, and that makes everyone shift their attention to him from Jisung.

 _Han_ , Jisung repeats to himself. It’s his stage name. It’s his last name too. So it should be fine if Minho called him that. It should be fine, but it isn’t. Because he is _so_ used to being called ‘Sungie’ by Minho that it comes to him like a shock. He might’ve been okay if he got called ‘Hannie’ like how the other members do. But it’s Minho. And Minho just called him ‘Han’ like he’s a stranger, like he’s a new fan, like he isn’t close at all to Jisung, like he isn’t best friends with him. And it just stings.

But of course, he disguises the pain. What else should he do? He doesn’t want to cry. He’s had enough of that. He’s too tired from that (or he can just do it later when he’s alone). So, of course, he feigns he isn’t wounded, covering the hurt painted on his face with a joyful one. Even if he’s fooling himself, even if everyone except Minho knows that he’s fooling no one.

 **“What’s this? What’s this? Are you having a party without me? I am offended!”** the words shoot out of him like it’s practiced, and he is glad there isn’t any hint of fake fervor.

And the other members confusedly go along with it, seeing as it makes Minho more enthusiastic, which Jisung guesses that it’s what they’ve been trying to maintain as the main dancer’s mood.

They look at the younger rapper with concern, all the while smiling at Minho as he excitedly tells the former, **“We’re trying to celebrate because I’m awesome. I’ve memorized all our choreographies now. And that’s not all!”** His eyes grow bigger as his hands form into tiny fists, his arms folded in front of his chest. He even shrinks himself, making it seem like he’s somewhat shorter than Jisung. _He looks like a kid_ , the latter thinks _._ **“I remembered a memory with Hyunjin!”**

And Jisung immediately thinks, _Ah, I wish it was with me instead_. Though it changes in a flash. _No, stop being selfish_. And he’s mentally slapping himself.

The mentioned boy, Hyunjin, the one who is also still holding Jisung’s shoulders, makes an awkward laugh.

But the younger boy ignores him, his eyes still locked with Minho’s. He feels his smile drop, but he instantly replaces it and goes, **“Oh, really?”** And he thinks he almost made it, pretending like it’s nothing, acting like it didn’t affect him at all. However, he feels a tear running down his left cheek. He curses himself.

_I need to get out of here. I need to get out. I need to go._

His vision starts to twirl, and his skin starts to feel like he’s being scratched. His hearing gets muted, and his heart begins to feel like it’s falling apart. Jisung strains his feet to move, and he turns around, heading straight in the direction of his room. He leaves everyone with a mumbled, _‘I gotta go,’_ and he just runs.

\---

He dreads every step he takes, which sends him closer to his bedroom door. He dreads it every second that passes. He dreads it because he painfully knows in his heart that after he enters the living room space, what would greet him is the sight of emptiness. There would be no soul in view, just the same old light from the windows, glowing on the floor.

And Jisung is right. Once he goes out of his room and into their living room, there is no one but him in the large space. He expects it, but it still makes his heart pinch.

He slowly treads to the untidied sofa, sitting there and staring at the wall clock. It’s past two o’clock in the morning. And he remembers around this time, most nights, he can bear his heart to _someone_. But he’s ruined that; it’s a comfort he had to let go, and right now, he’s regretting it.

He sinks his body into the couch, lifting his feet and bringing them to his chest. He hugs his knees and sways himself to the sound of nothing. As if that’s not enough, he stands up a second later, and he sways himself again to the sound of nothing. His mind goes back to earlier, remembering the sight of Minho dancing with someone that isn’t Jisung.

And it unfolds a scene from his memories:

The dancer was sat on the floor with his feet splayed, his arms supporting his stance. He was positioned opposite the windows, which gave the moonlight every right to caress his face. Jisung, on the other hand, was seated in the shadows. He was like the moon; he was tracing his eyes on every part of Minho’s face. And just like any other night, he thought about how it was just fated for both of them to be awake during this hour. But for the first time, he became curious about one thing.

And the words were out of his mouth without him knowing. _‘Have you ever had any other company than me?’_

The younger rapper was taken aback by his own question, but he didn’t know if Minho was shocked too. If he was, it wasn’t obvious.

For the first few milliseconds, he only stared at Jisung with his head tilting to the side. But eventually, he answered the younger’s query with another question. _‘Are you asking me if I have danced with anyone else other than you?’_

 _‘How—’ did you know?_ Jisung bit his tongue, shaking his head. _‘No, hyung. How did you even come up with that?’_ He knew he was blushing and was thankful that there wasn’t any light gracing the space where he was. _‘Ah!’_ he groaned, continuing to mumble; it’s an unwanted defense reaction he has whenever he gets flustered. _‘It’s like you’re portraying me as a selfish bad guy, wanting no one to borrow you.’_

 _‘Sungie,’_ the older had tried to interrupt.

But the younger was too busy frantically ranting that he didn’t catch Minho calling his name.

_‘Ji— Han Jisung!’_

Finally, the boy stopped vomiting words. He frowned. _‘What? What?’_

The older, who decided to ignore the scowl on the other boy’s face, plastered a smile on his own. _‘I don’t,_ ’ he said, the words light in the air. _‘I’d rather dance alone.’_

And Minho did say that. But why is Jisung dancing without him? Why is Jisung the one dancing alone?

But he remembers, this is his fault. He’s the one who ruined it. He’s the one who let it go. And in the end, everything happened because of him. So is this his fate from now on? To dance alone?

Maybe it’s all overthinking, but who else can he blame? And perhaps it’s overdoing it because, yes, the Minho now isn’t the Minho from before. He doesn’t remember the statement he said as a promise. He doesn’t remember, so Jisung shouldn’t feel blue. But he couldn’t help but feel otherwise.

He continues to dance in the living room, with his eyes closed. He continues to dance, his heart completely overwhelmed because he’s alone and there’s no music. And he’s sad and vulnerable. And he just wants to sink. He still keeps thinking… Is it wrong to feel this way when it’s his fault?

The glow from the windows seems to fade, and all that’s left are shadows surrounding Jisung, watching him dance alone, watching him and his heart collapse. It’s silent; everything is muted. And he continues to ponder… Is it wrong to want something he pushed away?

And Jisung sees it again, Minho dancing with somebody else. And Jisung feels tears flowing down his cheeks as his mind is focused on one thing.

Minho unknowingly broke his promise, but Jisung won’t. Even if it’s not his vow in the first place, even if it’s just to himself, Jisung swears he’d rather dance alone than having anyone take Minho’s place. Because he’s the only one that Jisung needs.

A minute passes, and he’s still in the living room. The soft light from the windows is barely there now.

Another minute passes, and he imagines he’s dancing with the ghost of the old Minho.

But really, he’s just there at past two a.m. with no one dancing next to him in the dark.

-M-

Something bolted him awake, and despite not knowing why, he finds himself outside his room, standing in the dark. In the distance, he sees a silhouette moving, as if it’s dancing by itself, swaying to a song it can only hear. And Minho would’ve bravely confronted or stupidly run away from the figure if he didn’t recognize it right away. But thankfully, he did. _Unexpectedly_ , he did.

It’s Han Jisung.

He didn’t doubt himself or accuse his eyes of hallucinating; it’s like his heart _knows_. And he didn’t also question that feeling.

But it seems to him that he’s in a territory he shouldn’t trespass. And the universe is an idiot for waking him up just to witness this. So he shakes his head with a smile and turns around. But not without noting in his mind to take a step forward tomorrow.

He swiftly moves in the dark. He’s so focused on finding his way back that he almost didn’t notice another figure sitting on the floor with its back on a bedroom door. And Minho does a double-take, straining his eyes to identify.

It’s Yang Jeongin.

And he’s looking at Minho with a solemn look like he’s worried because of something.

The older asks the youngest in a whisper, **“I.N-ah, why are you awake?”**

But the maknae is still looking at him, his eyes becoming teary. **“I’m keeping watch.”**

<<-

**“Sungie…”**

(A pause)

(A time to reconsider)

(A gulp)

(A retreat of thoughts)

(A smile)

**“Let’s go to sleep.”**

-x-

**Author's Note:**

>   
> \+ okaaay. please tell me what you think because i'd really appreciate it (or correct me on info's i got wrong, i guess). please please please leave a kudos or a comment! (or a question about the story, maybe?)  
> \+ and if anyone noticed, yes, i think i tend to be too wordy, or phrase-y, or sentence-y (i don't think the last two are actual words). so i apologize if you find that annoying. but i guess it's just the way i write? i promise you, i do try to tone it down  
> \+ also, i'm still getting a hang out of writing again so there's that too (i used to write poems! i even had a poetry blog in tumblr. good old days. i think this is why another style in my writing is repetitive, if anyone noticed that too)  
> \+ also also, this is unbetaed. lol. i am so sorry if you found any typos. but as you read this, it's being reread and reread again and being edited too (really, i'm like 50-50 writing then proofreading/editing)  
> \+ and yeah, come scream at me about skz or minsung in [twitter](https://twitter.com/_SKZHEART). also, here's my [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/sheacuriouscat)  
> 


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